


Mercy (The Pride Series #1)

by spookyanblurry



Category: (not really but close enough?), Original Work, The Lion King (1994)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25882999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyanblurry/pseuds/spookyanblurry
Summary: Mbundu; A young, oppressed lioness from the Vast Desert, strong and resilient. Cast from her Pridelands after a brutal takeover.Taji and Neema; King of a dying pride, hesitant to trust outsiders. His nursing Queen, a recent mother of three, and a worthy co-leader.Together, they all must travel across The Great Thirst and work together to fend off a vengeful hyena matriarch, and a double-crossing lioness who rules over a pride alongside three males.If the small group can make it across the grand stretch of near-desolation, and to the lush Marshlands, then Taji’s reputation with the area’s pride leader may just save them all.(Edited summary: 20-10-7)(Previously titled: Pride and Mercy)
Kudos: 2





	1. A Lovely Day

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, just want to let anyone not 'in the know' know that this is sort of based off a discord RP group I joined recently. Kind of has nothing to do with Disney's TLK, other than similar settings and lions. This will be much gorier though and waaaay less sing-song-y and child friendly. (Also; strap in buckerinos, this chappy's a doozy.)
> 
> (Edited: 20-10-04 - Minor grammar and flow edits to chapter)

The blistering sun shone down upon a stale and barren wasteland. The dust was mud red, various different pawprints scarcely visible to anyone not looking closely. The ground was smattered with grand sporadically placed trees. A few of which bore browning leaves from the desolate area’s harsh environment. The bones of fallen animals lay in the scattered majority amongst the rare pebbles and boulders that chose to accompany the likely dying, flat-topped acacias. Members of a lion pride lounged peacefully in the calm shade of their den; a decently large cave hollowed out by time on one side of a stout rock formation.

Mbundu, a newly-matured lioness with a pelt more intense than the setting sun—a faded, auburn saddle marking her strikingly bright golden pelt. The top of her head, and her shins had been decorated with toeless-sock-like marks of the same coloring, eyes like jade crystals opened lazily as she relaxed in the den’s cool mouth.

All-in-all, it was a lovely day in The Pit, all things considered. 

“Mbun,” A sharp, musical voice sounded from behind. “Come here and help me with these sun-forsaken cubs!” It was Mpenzi, a dark-red lioness with a lilly-white underbelly. One of her sisters. She huffed and chuffed, ears flat to her skull, balancing two newborns under her paws, trying to give the escapist cubs a tongue bath. A third rascal was slowly tottling her way to the entrance of the den. 

With a snort and rapid flicking of her tail, Mbundu rose to her paws and waddled over to plop her large frame down beside the thinner, darker lioness. As she passed, she scooped the runner (a gold-and-red-patched female with black eyes) into her mouth. The struggle to keep the little one still only lasted a few moments before she gave in. It seemed Auntie Mbundu was a much more formidable foe than her mother. 

“You know,” Mbundu sighed between licks, “You could always ask mother to stick around more often. I’m  _ positive  _ she’s a better cubsitter than me.” That earned a hearty chuckle from the other female.

“Well, I need  _ your _ thick skin and willingness to punish.  _ Mother  _ is too soft and lenient with them. These three are little monsters already!” Mpenzi chuffed again. Her face scrunched up and she growled low in warning as a scruffy looking, pale-as-protea-petal male began to meagerly wiggle his way from her grasp.

“Nyota,” Mbundu commanded gently. “Listen to your mother and have your bath.” A resistant mewl burst from the cub, and she had to fight the urge to coo at the silly little thing. But, a mischievous thought of her own popped into her head at the practically-newborn’s defiant shout of “No!”. She grinned rather devilishly, knowing he could not yet see her as anything more than a fuzzy blob, and began to spin a story while she cleaned the now-sleeping female in her own discolored paws. 

“You do know that there’s a terrible monster lurking around The Pit, yes?” A sly tone was quickly adopted as she carefully gauged the youngling’s reaction. Nyota stiffened at what she’d said, and paused in his desperate attempt to escape. “Surely you’ve heard of it,” Mbundu prodded, trying to draw the cub into her tall-tale.

Mpenzi looked to have figured out what she was doing, and didn’t seem all that happy about it, but the cubs had stopped fighting long enough for her to bathe them easily, so she really had no grounds to complain.

“Well, let me tell you, the Cubcruncher is real,” she leaned closer to the cubs with a whisper. The little girl in her paws was now wide awake and toddling toward her mother. All three cubs were at attention then, tiny adorable ears pricked, foggy eyes wide in her general direction, squeezed in between Mpenzi’s hefty front legs. Mbundu’s voice rose ever so slightly before she continued, “A giant lion, the size of a buffalo, with the horns and hooves of one, too! It’ll crunch and munch any little cub that it sees misbehaving. They  _ really _ like to eat the ones that stray too far, or disobey their mothers. It says they taste the best.”

A particularly intelligent, full sepia cub was brave enough to call her bluff, “Auntie, you’re lying!” Her whine came from underneath a large white paw. Mbundu couldn’t tell if she was hiding, or if Mpenzi had just been trying to keep her still again. 

“ _ Lying _ ? Of course I’m not! Do you want to know how I’ve learned all this, and lived to tell the tale?” Mbundu queried nonchalantly. She could see Mpenzi roll her dark blue eyes. The new mother absolutely knew what was coming. The bulky red-gold female paused for affect, and the cubs were now hanging on her every word. 

“I know this because…  _ I  _ AM THE TERRIBLE CUB CRUNCHER!” 

She roared goofily and began to belly-crawl like mad after the trio, making a big show of snapping her jaws wildly as she chased them. They all shot up, delighted fright plastered on to their faces. They screamed and sprinted to the cover of the three other sleeping lionesses that currently occupy the den. Her antics seemed to have disturbed them because of a trio of growls, yowls, and ‘shut-up!’s that echoed off the rocky walls, reverberating in her ears. Mbundu took  _ that  _ as her cue to exit the den. Mpenzi had finished bathing her cubs anyway. 

Hastily, she limped out into the arid coastal desert that her pride called home. The summer they faced was quite hot, and Mbundu knew she wouldn’t be able to last too long out in the sun with her dark pelt. Still, it was best for her to keep her eyes out for danger. Azanti, the pride’s large and ruthless leader who also happened to be Mbundu’s father, was out patrolling the borders of their territory. But even then, with no other sub-males around, anyone could slip through. The cubs needed to be protected and their pride wasn’t half of what it used to be.

_ ‘What it  _ should _ be _ ,’ came the bitter thought. 

She scanned the desolate earth before her, eying a far-off treeline that sat before the den with misplaced ferocity. Surrounded by dirt, rocks and bone, she plopped herself down on her side, legs splayed as she tried to unwind a little. The long, nurturing shadows created by the rocks kept her cool on the west side of the den.

The hunting party would be expected back any time now. Her father ordered Mbundu’s elderly mother and four others of the most trusted, loyal, and elite lionesses under his rule to head it. On top of all that, they were merciless when it came to the kill. 

Despite the harsh environment they all were born into, Mbundu was surprisingly soft and optimistic. She was still young, though, at just three-and-a-half years old. Not even in her prime. Regardless, the thought of that particular hunting party in action, during her mother’s prime, made her shiver.

Behind the rock formation was the great salty sea. Mbundu turned her head toward it, and a gentle breeze blew the familiar scent of sweaty, tired lionesses. Rising to her paws--right back-leg stiff as she ascended--she could make them out in the distance, maybe a kilometer away. They’d had no luck, as she could see no dead seals, nor ostriches, swaying limply between their teeth. Azanti would certainly be pissed. 

_ ‘Speaking of,’ _ she thought to herself when a commanding roar decimated the relatively peaceful stillness of the lands. It came from said treeline, to the east and far into the desert. It’s volume told her that Azanti was maybe five or six klicks away.

She cringed visibly when she saw a dark brown speck, mottled with orange and gold, break through the distant trees.

Footsteps came from behind her, in the direction of the den. “Oh boy, he doesn’t sound happy,” Aina, Mbundu’s sister sighed as her light steps came to a stop at her left. “...And they came home with nothing. He might actually kill someone this time.” 

The look on her sister's face was a mixture of dread and annoyance; black lips pulled back in half a snarl, pale jasper eyes rolled beneath furrowed cream brows. Her shoulders were smaller than Mbundu's, but still quite broad, and shone a milky yellow in the early evening sun when she shirked them back.

The ruddy backed lioness thought she must have appeared much the same. 

"Looks like he's killed something recently, though." Mbundu replied with a sigh after noticing the rusty stains smeared across his chin, neck, and paws on his rather quick approach. "Maybe he'll be too tired for it?"

A snort was the only reply.

She should have known better than to be so hopeful. Especially when it came to Azanti. Before leaving the ever-approaching, menacing figure, Mbundu’s gaze shot to the group of dark-pelted lionesses. Hasiye, the lead huntress, was no doubt in for much misery. 

Her father didn’t take well to failure.

Mbundu winced, she knew that Azanti had seen her and Aina standing just outside the mouth of the den. They and the hunting party were practically trapped, forced to wait and stand witness to whichever flavor of cruelty he’d choose to serve up at that moment. That was just her father’s way of things.

The pride leader had now slowed to a steady trot, an ever-encroaching terror, with a sour gleam in his pale-green eyes.

Hasiye and the other females had stopped just meters away from Mbundu and Aina. Their postures spoke volumes of their shared nervousness and self-disappointment. Each had curled in on themselves, many wearing flattened ears and wide eyes.

“I am ashamed of you Hasiye,” Azanti growled low in his throat whilst stalking towards his prized minion. Mbundu’s tail came up to snake around her lame leg, a coping mechanism from her cubhood, at his tone. “I would have thought you, of all lionesses, were better than this; coming home with nothing, not even a single  _ shred _ of food!” like a lightning strike, his already-bloodied paw wrenched back and slammed into the side of Hasiye’s dark muzzle. Her head shot to the side with extreme violence, rivulets of blood welled up and beaded at the top-layer of murky fur. He’d used his claws, of course he had.

Mbundu fought off the urge to wince. Reacting at all could make her Azanti’s next target.

The assaulted lioness was silent as she took another hit, this time it connected under her jaw and sent her sprawling backwards. Her hefty body hit the hardened, sun-baked dirt with a soft thud, and a low groan slipped from her parched lips when she collided with it.

“I find it excruciatingly hard to believe that I trust a lame lioness to bring back fresh meat more often than you Hasiye,” he shook his head, the deep mahogany mane he sported rustled with the movement. All in all, he was much tamer on Hasiye than he had been on any of the other lionesses. He seemed sweet to her in a way he’d only ever acted towards Mbundu’s mother.

“Mbundu,” he snapped suddenly, “gather your sisters and head out to the east. I scented a large herd of Gemsbok a few miles out whilst returning.” Then, he faced towards the den, away from the battered lioness at his feet, and stalked into the rocky maw. “Don’t disappoint me,” came his parting drawl. “Mtoaji!” He bellowed lowly behind him and Mbundu’s scarred mother scurried after him with a sad glance back at her daughters. It spoke of fear and infinite despair. The lead’s warning was thinly-veiled, he’d just demonstrated what happens to an experienced huntress, it was clear what would happen to Mbundu, should the hunting party she led also return with nothing. 

“Alright, you heard him,” she heaved herself to a standing position and turned to the lionesses behind Hasiye. “Those of you strong enough will follow me.” Only Aina and one other remained, the rest retreated into the chilly den. A thick, sandy-red lioness stood in front of them, their littersister Matope. 

“I’m fit enough for another excursion. Just need a minute to stretch.” The slightly larger female explained. Mbundu smiled with a nod in understanding, even a tired Matope would be a highly important asset to any hunting party. While she was rather friendly, she held power in her tightly packed muscles, and was certainly a force to be reckoned with.

The three lionesses that Mbundu had annoyed earlier—minus Mpenzi, due to the fact that she was nursing cubs, and Aina, who was next to her—came spilling out from the den’s entrance, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. Hasira; a lithe and swift lioness with a wheat-colored pelt. Eusi, a dark, muted brown lioness, with a strength to rival an elephant, and Mkimbiaji, another thin and agile female, though she possessed a full cream coat. These three would make up the last of their group.

Once the lionesses had all congregated, Mbundu chuffed a signalling sort of sound before the six of them set off east and into the treeline. Into the direction that Azanti had arrived from. 

Though she was the lead huntress, Mbundu always found herself bringing up the rear in formation. Her accursed leg, while there was no longer any pain, was tense and did not hold the same range of movement as it used to. Although, she supposed that’s what a well-aimed kick to the hind leg from an antelope would do to you. At least it wasn’t completely useless. As they walked, Mbundu made sure to take longer strides so as to stretch the tight muscles in the hopes of loosening them for the upcoming hunt. She also kept an eye on the sky, watching for vultures. The little corpse beacons would surely lead them to something worth bringing home. 

She was almost positive that the only way her father would be pleased was if they brought back more than one carcass.

Up front, Eusi had halted quite suddenly, raising her nose to the air. She opened her mouth and breathed in deeply, sniffing out a scent. The wrinkling of her pretty face indicated she had caught wind of something. Mbundu stuck up her nose and followed suit.

“What is it?” Hasira questioned, copying her sisters’ actions.

“Oryx, just like ‘ _ His Majesty’ _ said,” Mkimbiaji butted in quickly between heavy inhales, “A few klicks to our left, smells like. We’re downwind though, this is perfect.”

“Nice work, smells like a huge herd, too. Thirty or forty strong,” Aina complimented the three of them with a content purr as they all skulked off towards the source of the scent.

Mbundu could feel the rising excitement in the air. Pre-hunt stalks were always filled with whipping tails and twitching ears. Her steps were as silent as the dead, paws raised only to lower back down to the ground with macabre purpose.

The group carried on that way for a long time, slowly creeping on in utter silence, ears honed in on gentle hoofbeats and braying in the distance. They were drawing closer to a kill, and all the females present were finding it hard to contain their frenzied elation.

“Eusi,” Matope muttered when they paused to formulate a plan. “You, Mbundu, and I should stay here and wait for Hasira , Aina, and Mkimbiaji to circle around and startle the herd this way. They’re the fastest out of the six of us, and I know we’re the strongest.”

With a jerky nod of their heads, they all agreed on the plan. The runners of the party took off to the left and right respectively, leaving the remaining three females to wait in the tall drying grass that surrounded the acacias.

Matope was right, she, Eusi and Mbundu had the best jaw strength of the six. Hasi, Mkimbi, and Aina were the most agile, able to chase down most prey they came upon with relative ease. With Mbun’s lame leg, this would be the only strategy that held any success. She made sure to give it a few more warm-up stretches before following her Sisters to cover.

Hunkered a few meters away from her two companions, the bulky, red-gold lioness held herself down low in a crouch. She hardly moved a muscle, save the ones used to breathe and blink. Her ears swiveled, a keen sense of hearing open to the exhilarating sound of food approaching. Her mighty legs were splayed to keep her balance as she hunched.

She was more than ready.

Auburn ears pricked up at the sounds of angry yowling, and impending, frightened, hoofbeats.

This was it: two female Gemsbok incomings, her sisters hot on their heels. She couldn’t yet see them from behind the grass-blades, but she could smell them, and feel them growing nearer through the slightly trembling ground.

Claws offhandedly dug themselves into the dirt, Mbundu’s heart spastic in its ribcage. Her tongue darted out a tad to better ease the scent of the animals down her throat. She preemptively sunk even lower and her rump wiggled as she readied her back legs for a sprinting pounce.

Once she was able to make out the forms of the two oryx, she sprung into action. 

Tearing out of the grass with a hair-raising, thundering growl, she leapt into the air and aimed at the closest antelope. It was a young, golden-colored Gemsbok. Mbundu thought that she was rather beautiful, right before her claws latched on to the base of the poor thing’s neck and her jaws clamped tightly around its wind-pipe, crushing with enormous force. Mbundu’s good back leg was focused on clawing at the antelope’s  _ front  _ legs in the hopes of rendering them useless. Said animal was currently bucking and bellowing it’s distress, calling for someone, for  _ anyone  _ to save her. 

Busy, Mbundu did not pay attention to Aina, who had -- after her sisters emerged from behind her -- leapt not  _ up and on _ to the antelope, but face-first  _ into _ her wildly thrashing legs.

Mbundu also did not notice that Mkimbi had over-shot her pounce, and ended up caught underneath the front hooves of the other, older, oryx.

Eusi and Matope looked on in horror as their sisters were trampled to death, yet they knew that they must still take down the beasts they had targeted. If not, they would all soon join Aina and Mkimbiaji in their fates. They fought harder, and rallied together to take the prey animals down. For their fallen family.

Mbundu finally noticed that Aina would no longer be helping, so she began furiously thrashing her head about. She kicked at the young antelope’s weakening legs, and prayed to the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars, that she could break this damn thing’s neck. It seemed her prayers were answered as a loud, wet ‘ _ POP’  _ resounded over a sudden and absolute stillness from beneath her. 

The golden oryx lay unmoving in a puddle of murky red. 

However, so did Aina and Mkimbi. Their limp corpses settled into disfigured heaps on top of the sandy grass, next to the slain antelope. 

Mbundu’s brows were knitted together at the sight of them. She’d seen countless deaths over the course of her short life, and they never got any easier to bear, but these were her  _ sister’s _ lifeless bodies in front of her. She could feel her heart shattering. Mbundu loved them dearly, and while Mkimbiaji may not have been her birth sister, the kindly cream-coated lioness guided her along in the same way regardless. 

“The Pit will never feel like home without them.” Eusi moaned, toning a tortured wisp that barely slipped past her slips at all. The three remaining lionesses could only stare at the crumpled and bleeding forms of the two pale-pelt sisters with abject horror, etched into their faces like a river eating away at the bed.

Matope was quietly grunting, pacing back and forth between the two bodies.

“We have to bring at least one carcass back,” Mbundu said, and that was all she could really think of to say. Her glossy eyes did not leave the scene before her. 

“Hopefully, Azanti will be so pleased with the golden one, that he’ll overlook the fact that we’re down two more huntresses,” came Hasira’s dull spoken words.

After another empty moment, they all placed a paw lightly atop their sister’s heads and Eusi spoke a gentle blessing for their errant souls. “May your kills be bountiful in death. Good hunting, and rest easy, sisters.”

“Rest easy, sisters.” With that, the four remaining females each scooped up a portion of the carcass between their jaws to heave it up and carry it home. 

The trek back was done in solemn silence. Half because of the carcass in their teeth, and half due to the losses they had just faced. The evening sun made matters worse, as the built up heat of the day slowed them down. As the three females trudged onwards, Mbundu was almost hoping for the sun to take her then, and she stumbled a bit. A small nudge and a worried look from Eusi’s side of the carcass pushed her back into motion.

The wind had changed course and blew toward them from the direction of the den. Mbundu caught the whiff of a smell she’d become all too familiar with, blood. Lots of it, too. 

Her heart sped in her chest, and she paused and dropped Gemsbok's leg. “Something’s wrong,” she chuffed, ignoring the carcass in favour of trotting to the den site. Her breathing rapidly stuttered as she inhaled again, the scent of death was much stronger now and Mbundu could only sprint in response. 

Stars, the smell was enough to gag her, even meters from the den. 

She could see many large and bloodied pawprints in the dirt of the entrance as she neared. She guessed at five or six rogue males, but the scene before her was so chaotic that she really couldn’t tell. 

Bodies were scattered around the immediate area, and Mbundu recognized all but one. A large, black maned male lay with his innards on full display next to Azanti, whose face had been mangled so badly that she could hardly tell it was him by looks alone. Mbundu felt nothing as she gazed at him, an eye had been gouged out and hung limply across his snout. He had been an evil tyrannical monster, cruel and unforgiving. That was the least of what he deserved. 

However, she felt herself physically stumbling at the sight of her greying kind-hearted mother, bent and broken, laying over top of Mpenzi and the cubs. She had tried to protect them, yet all three stained the dead grass. Their torn bodies lay brutally mauled in the sand. 

Mbundu’s sisters let out worried calls as they padded up behind her. Probably trying to find any survivors, though it was unlikely that she would succeed.

The lame lioness carefully passed over the corpses of her fallen pridemates to peek her head into the den. Kutisha and Dhalifu were sprawled out inside, necks torn to shreds, hollowed eyes staring out in horror until the scavenging rot feasters came.

She did not see Hasiye or Msaliti amongst the carnage, so Mbundu figured they must have been the ones to lead the Coalition into their lands undetected. She chuffed angrily, nostrils flared wide and face scrunched in a frustrated snarl.

“ _ Oh Sun _ , they’re all dead, aren’t they?” Hasira’s tone was soft, and broke on certain words, when it drifted in behind her with the wind.

Mbundu did not answer, she only gaped at her fallen pride. The gore soaked itself into her mind’s eye, cursed to haunt her for the rest of her days. She could feel her breath as it began to fly out of control, she heaved so heavily that Hasira came to her side.

“Are you alright, Mbun?” Her voice warbled in her ears, as if the world were underwater. 

Like she was possessed by some spirit, Mbundu’s body turned of its own accord. Violently, she pushed past her sister with a frantic, overwhelmed growl. Once out of the mouth, she gave off a heart-wrenching roar. One meant to expel all of the sorrow and grief built up over the course of her life. It spooked a flock of birds from a far-off dead tree, though Mbundu paid no mind to it.

A myriad of thoughts raced through her mind as she stomped the ground before her legs pushed themselves forward with surprising speed. _ ‘How could this happen, how was this fair?! How could Hasiye betray Azanti and the rest of them so fatally? Hasiye was his favourite, the lionesses were all meant to be a unit!”  _ An ever growing ember of hatred for the lioness fanned itself as she raced past the broken fragments of her now-former pride. 

Azanti was dead and Mbundu had been freed. She could not stay there any longer. The horrors faced here, under her father’s gruesome rule, were too much to bear. Her sisters were either dead, or free from their leader, like her. She hoped, as their calls for her to come back,  _ to stay _ , faded into the distance, that they would be alright. She didn’t expect them to forgive her for leaving, only wished that they would survive without her. She would do nothing to aid them, only slow them down. 

_ ‘After all,’ _ Azanti’s vitriolic words rang loudly in her mind,  _ ‘what good is a lame lioness?’ _

Well, she supposed she was no good at all.

  
Mbundu did not spare a glance behind her as she blindly fled farther away from the sea and into the desert,  _ ‘What a lovely day, indeed.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Mbundu's life sure is fun, huh?
> 
> Also I thought it was funny to make her pull a Simba and run through the desert as a bit of an homage to the movie that pretty much made me a dang furry.
> 
> Lemme know what ya'll think! I appreciate every comment, kudos and review!


	2. Saving Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mbundu comes across a royal pair with cubs, seeing the potential in to a new pride, she brings them all a very generous gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, it's been a while.
> 
> Expect more regular uploads from here on out, finally got life sorted!  
> ALSO; I will be editing and updating as I please until this is finished RIP. I'll try my dandiest not to ret-con, or completely scrap what I have now to limit the need for ya'll to re-read things, but honestly I can't promise anything lol.
> 
> Side note, I just started Bravelands and it's an amazing series. You may see some slight inspiration from it during this because it has consumed my life.

Many nights had passed since Mbundu had fled from her former territory. She hadn’t even stopped to confirm her where-abouts, and all the while, the young lioness was tortured by the stark images of her massacred family. Mbundu couldn’t possibly outrun what was seared into her every sense. The stench of all that familiar blood, the gritty feel of it on her paw pads as she strode through the stained sand. Her shoulders quivered, she was still covered in the golden Gemsbok's blood. It forced vivid images of her mother, Mpenzi, and the cubs ripped asunder and discarded as if they were waste. Stars, it all was more than she could bear. 

That blinding white-yellow orb in the sky began to lower once again, and she could tell that she was nearing her physical peak. Countless days spent in the harsh sun and nights spent out in the freezing cold took its toll on her surprisingly durable body. Mbundu could not remember how long she’d been running for, without any food or water, but she knew it had to have been longer than was healthy. Her whole body ached, and the sun brutalized her darkened back. Beefy paws, shaking with exhaustion, kicked up the sand as she trotted along. Her panting was uncontrollable as she went. She favoured her leg, as it had cramped up and gotten stiff from overexertion and lack of water. 

She was still in the desert, though she started to see the beginnings of a grassier savannah. Waves of heat wiggled in the air before her eyes, causing them to fuzz up and water. Mbundu snuffed the air for a trace of anything; food, water, the safety of company. No luck with the food, so she sniffed again. 

This time, the smell of water pervaded her nose from a few kilometers away. But her brown-backed ears perked in interest at the faint bellow of a lioness. It’s rumbling mezzo-soprano emanated from a little farther than the water she’d sniffed out, and sounded as if the unknown female was calling out to someone. Mbundu figured she was maybe a day-and-a-half off from the source of the sound, and hoped that whoever had made it remained there. After deciding to follow the chuff, Mbundu headed southeast at a fair pace. The malnourished and sun-sick lioness made sure to keep her senses on high-alert. Green eyes scanned her surroundings constantly, trying to pinpoint any possible danger. 

A much deeper bellow resounded in response to her call, a male. Her steps faltered at the sound of its power.

With no idea what she could have walked into, it was probably best to stay on the defensive. Mbundu limped on and returned a couple bellows of her own, failing to keep the desperation from her voice. She hoped to signal to the other lions that she was there and was no threat.

Moments later, a wary greeting from the lioness wafted her way.

Mbundu wasted no time in pushing herself to a light trot, letting out loud huffs and hums. She would make it to these strangers, half-dead as she felt, and then her fate would be left up to the male. Mbundu was certainly in no state for a fight, even as big as she was. Given the dubious number of days she’d been alone in the desert, she was weak and vulnerable. An easy kill for a more ornery lion.

Only time would tell if Mbundu’s last days were then and there.

As she limped along, the lone female picked up the heady scent of Warthog somewhere in the distance. The pig was alone just as she was, and hopefully not very close to its home, as the only water source so far was much farther off. Mbundu still had a spark of fight left within her, and she figured that, should she successfully take the poor thing down, it could sway the unfamiliar couple’s favour.

The weakened lioness stalked silently to her right, led by the heavy musk of her prey. This small detour shouldn’t set her back any farther. Well, she hoped for as much, anyway. 

* * *

Neema yawned and twisted a whisky colored, white-splotched ear to her cubs. The lioness lay quietly under the shade of a patch of mopane trees, her three children tucked safely underneath a row of thick bushes and large rocks close by. Their excited mewls filled her with ease and she began to carefully groom herself.

Her cubs are now three months old, and the small family unit was ready to rejoin the pride. Unfortunately, their numbers had dwindled over the past year. They had been traveling from the edges of the desert and lost four lionesses due to starvation and lack of water, leaving the pride with just two females and a male. Neema was quite pregnant at the time, her belly swollen and heavy as they travelled in search of a more hospitable land to restart their pride in. Once the three adults—plus the cubs—settled themselves into a small watering hole on the outskirts of the savannah, Heshima went off ahead to scout for food and bachelorette lionesses. 

That was over three months ago, and the other female still had not returned. Neema was starting to fear the worst for her sister. 

Neema and her pride leader, Taji, were the only two able-bodied lions left. This was not good, not at all. If their pride didn’t grow soon, they’d all surely die.

After she finished licking the grime from her paws, she pulled herself up in a stand and lowered her head to call out for Taji, who should have been fairly near, if he were still alive of course. The bourbon-backed male had agreed to keep his distance from them as the cubs grew. A move that would prevent their deaths during a pride takeover, an event that neither of the two adults could afford to risk engaging in.

Neema was more than surprised to hear a female’s frantic chuffs leading Taji’s own noble bellow. She sounded frayed and worn. The lithe female sniffed the air south of the quartet’s hiding place but whoever this strange lioness was seemed to be downwind of them, making any efforts to identify her further fruitless. The new mother ruminated on whether or not to throw out a greeting to the stranger. She paused for a few moments, eager to hear if there were any other lions skulking about her pridelands.

After a long while, she heard no other calls, and so cautiously sent a small ‘hello’ into the wind.

It was returned immediately with much vigor, encroaching on the small bushel from the left. Neema could also hear Taji, fast approaching from the other side of a distant, grassy dune behind them. She was certain he would arrive first.

Despite his promises, it looked to her as though Taji had remained closer to the nursing site than Neema would have liked. All the white splotched lioness could do was shake her head lightly, and sigh. She knew he had meant well. The large, dark-maned male likely felt she would need his protection at some point, and while it was highly unlikely he’d lift a paw to do any of the rearing, Taji would defend his kin with ferocity.

It was just one of the many reasons she’d chosen to follow him. From what Neema had seen, he was quite the devoted father. A very attractive quality in a male, she thought.

Intense feelings of pride swelled deep in her chest when he broke over the peak of the hill and came bounding toward her with speed, humming and hawing all the way. The setting sun transformed his warm brown topcoat into a magnificent shade of deep red. His white underbelly turned a light, creamy pink, and the red accents in his heavy black mane shone a little more gold.

Taji being an exceptionally handsome male was admittedly another reason she’d chosen him. However, Neema definitely wouldn’t feed his ego by saying as much. 

“Is everyone alright?” Taji puffed and panted after he slowed to a stop just before his mate. The male’s heterochromatic eyes snapped erratically back-and-forth between the pale female and the bushes where the cubs remained expertly hidden. He tossed his hefty heady back to remove a loose strand of his mane that had fallen into his eyes. 

One blue, and one green, those intense,  _ worried  _ eyes bore into Neema and pleaded for her to tell him they were fine.

“Oh, calm down, you big fool.” Neema rolled her own pale grey eyes at him fondly. “All’s well. The lioness surprised me, but she’s far still.” She moved to nuzzle herself against the nervous male, whole-bodied. Her face was momentarily buried deep in his thick mane and she could feel the awe-inspiring rumbles when he spoke next.

“You called for her.” It was a statement rather than a question, and he didn’t quite nuzzle into her with as much energy as he had in previous times. Her love’s eyes were hard as he turned away from her, spurning the nursing lioness’ advances

Neema rolled her hazel eyes at his impetuousness. “We need the extra help, Taji,” she stated with absolute conviction as she moved to face him. They would scope out this unknown female, and if she passed inspection, they would allow her closer to the cubs. Hopefully, they can come to rely on her to aid in hunts and cubsitting. Neema stood firm on this as she waited for a reply from her lead.

“I find it insulting that you force me away from my own cubs, yet jump at the chance to have a complete stranger enter our territory,” he growled. Taji’s mighty shoulders rotated and his tail tip curled in agitation.

“You know full well that if we don’t start bringing down larger prey, and soon, we’ll all starve. Death by a hungry rogue would be a quicker and far kinder end.” She spat, ears flattened to her skull. Neema didn’t know what had gotten into him lately, but she was tired of this foolishness. Sometimes the risk was worth taking, and Taji had to realize that. If he ignored Neema’s advice and continued down this path of over-caution, what hope was there for the cubs? How could they survive, if they were too afraid to grow their pride?

“Yes,” he humphed and his rigid body sagged slightly, “I’m aware. It’s just difficult. I worry far too much about you, Neema.” His mismatched eyes were soft as they looked back at her.

“That’s exactly your problem,” Neema sighed in reply and shook her head. “You worry too much, not just about me... about  _ everything _ , and it’s going to get us killed. We have to be bold at least some of the time. If we don’t try and reach out to others for support, then it won’t matter how many rogues we avoid, we’ll still end up dead!” Those thoughts had been bottled up inside her for months now, and she’d finally had enough of keeping to herself about the matter. 

Taji was about to shoot back with something snarky, indicated by the tell-tale tilt of his head and the slight droop of his eyelids. However, to Neema’s glee, he was interrupted by Shujaa, who poked his tiny brown dorsal-striped head out from the underbrush.

“Mom,” the tangerine cub whined, “can we come out now? We’re bored!” His sky blue eyes sparkled in the dull light that intruded upon the den’s entrance.

Neema tilted her head in mock thought at her only son, “Hmm, I don’t know Shu. Maybe I’ll make you three stay another month.” She was only teasing the young male, she knew how much each of the children yearned to discover the world beyond their little safe haven.

Shujaa hopped on his paws a few times, ears flattened and indignantly huffing his displeasure. “ _ Mo-om _ ! I’ll die of boredom in this smelly old bush!” His two siblings could be seen cautiously peering out at Taji from behind him. A little protector already, Neema mused with a warm smile.

She then turned to the leader, “What do you think, Taji?”

“I think I’ll eat them if they bother me,” He said with a mischievous grin and a wink to the cubs.

“Oh, I’d like to see you try,” Neema fake-growled, laughing lightly as she adopted a defensive stance and moved to block him from the cubs. Taji purred then and closed the distance between them to jerk his head toward hers, nuzzling Neemsa’s face with his own. She nuzzled back with fervor, glad that he was no longer in such a sour mood.

“Come on out, my lovelies,” she cooed after twisting to face them. “Time to explore!”

Neema watched as Shujaa was the first to hesitantly exit the den. His orange coat shone brightly in the evening sunlight, it darkened his cub spots and the little dorsal stripe along his back. His narrow pink nose sniffed around at the ground around him as he toddled out into the open. 

Taji had seated himself to wait for his son to wander over so they could greet each other properly. Shujaa introduced himself with one proud puff of his chest, exclaiming his name and boasting about how he would help Taji protect his pride when he was grown. The large male laughed heartily at the young cub’s eager enthusiasm and sincere love for his family.

“Aye, well you best grow up big and strong then,” The lead winked again, a toothy grin spread across his muzzle. “You’ll lead your own pride one day, you know.”

Maua was the next cub to boldly follow after her brother. Her darker, bourbon colored pelt screamed ‘Taji’, but the hazel of her eyes and the few white splotches that mottled her coat were all Neema, and she preened at the beauty of her eldest daughter. The young cub spent little time exploring in favour of running to the safety of awe-struck Shujaa, who began shooting off questions faster than a bird in flight. Taji quickly directed his attention to familiarizing himself with his daughter, his over-hyper son’s ramblings caused visible concern and fear to bubble to the surface. 

“Alright, Shu,” Neema sighed in warning at the cub. Shujaa simply stuck his tongue out at her in reply and turned to tussle with the poor unsuspecting Maua. The older lioness rolled her eyes and chuffed at the young male, but otherwise let him be.

Neema had no need to rain on her children’s parade. Not today, at least.

Little Tofauti was the last to appear, with fur the same light whisky as Neema’s and, as far as she could tell, Tofauti would not grow into any markings like her siblings. As she watched the slightly underweight cub, she noticed that Tofauti was much shyer than the others and seemed to marvel at the world around her. The small, light pelted female did not go to investigate her father, but instead chose to casually paw at a juicy looking beetle she’d found around the side of the den.

Neema looked on fondly as Taji padded over to their youngest cub. She smiled warmly at the sight of Tof shrinking nervously when her father sniffed and nuzzled into the side of her tiny body.

“Are you really gonna eat us, Daddy?” She whimpered wetly, wide-eyed with her ears pinned back, and Neema had to stop herself from cooing at the utter adorableness of it, as she didn’t want the poor girl to think she was teasing her for being afraid.

“Of course not, my dear. I was only joking,” Taji began to purr then, and he backed away from his daughter to put her at ease and give her space.

“Alright lovelies,” Neema began, calling the three cubs’ attention. There was a stranger on the way, as they spoke, and she needed them to know to return to the den to hide in case anything were to go wrong with the introductions. “You heard the strange roar earlier, you three  _ must _ hide in the den when our guest arrives. It would break my heart if any of you were eaten.”

“Ugh, not again, Me and Maua would rather be eaten!” Shujaa yowled and dropped into an offensive stance, his teeth bared, face scrunched in defiant annoyance.

At the mention of her name, Maua turned from her father to point a sour look at her brother. “Hey, I never said that!” The two began to tussle roughly after Shujaa raced to tackle his younger sister for not agreeing with him. 

Taji then stood and let out a gruff rumble, “Alright, alright. Both of you, calm down and listen to your mother. She knows best, after all.”

Neema sighed and sent a silent ‘thank you’ to her King when Shujaa begrudgingly released Maua’s back leg from his jaws. “ _ Fine, _ ” the young cub growled and moved to sit proudly just in front of Neema. “Not yet, though.”

Taji’s bi-colored eyes hardened at his son’s insolence and looked as if he were about to reprimand the cub. However, Neema shot her mate a look that discouraged him from acting. Shujaa was young and excited about the world he’d just been introduced to, they could overlook his disobedience... for now. Although, if he refused the safety of the den upon the stranger’s arrival, Neema would no longer give him the choice.

Speaking of, the overwhelming stench of Warthog blood filled the air. It seemed to come from their northwest, on the other side of a hearty grouping of acacias and mopanes, in the direction of the desert. As the smell grew closer, Neema could notice a few different scents. Underneath the Warthog, she scented a lighter layer of Gemsbok, and an even lighter layer of lion’s blood underneath that.

It was the lion’s blood that worried Neema. The heavy, caustic smell caused her teeth to clench painfully tight and set her whole body on edge. Her white-splotched ears perked readily in the direction of the newcomer, her minty eyes never left the foreboding treeline. “Get in the den,  _ now _ .” It ripped from her throat like a growl, and startled Shujaa so badly, he fell backwards onto his back before his hasty scuttle back to the den.

The two sisters weren’t far behind him as Taji ushered them inside. After the last tail tip disappeared into the shelter, the King and Queen shared a worried glance.

“Did you smell that, too?” Taji padded up next to Neema, mighty brows furrowed as he began to pace in front of her.

“Yes,” she nodded her head, “We have to be extra careful.” Her companion chuffed his agreement and settled himself down beside her.

It was a good thing that he had shed his anxiety before the strange female had emerged from the trees. If there was any palpable tension during the introduction, it could invite trouble, something neither party was likely open to. 

The royal pair sat near the den with bated breaths. Neema had one ear cocked to the cubs in case of a sneak attack, and one pointed toward the incoming lioness. Her eyes never strayed from the mopanes, and her muscles were tense despite feigning composure. From the Queen’s peripheries, she could see Taji, adjacent to her left. His lethal mouth hung wide as he scented the air for possible opposing males. 

That short, dark, tuft of fur twitched rapidly at the end of his tail, he held it stiffly like a snake ready to strike. His whole body was coiled similarly, with his scarred muzzle pulled into a nasty, silent snarl. Green-and-blue eyes fiercely darted about the sandy plains, anticipating the slightest sign of danger. He was ready,  _ they  _ were ready. They both had to be.

When the stranger finally came into view, the first thing Neema noticed through all the dried blood was that she was quite large, dark in color, and heavily scarred. 

Her entire top half was a dark russet color that bled into stunning gold near her stomach and mid-shoulder. Neema had never seen the sort of coloration that this female held on her ankles, but she supposed not very many lions were covered in white splotches either. Unfortunately, her beauty was covered up in a flurry of old and new scar tissue that amassed mostly on her sides and back, though there were some scattered here-and-there on her legs and face.

The second thing Neema noticed was the freshly dead Warthog that lay slack with its neck between her mighty jaws. Scarred muscles bulged under the weight of the pig, showcasing just how big her frame truly was. However, Neema could see the ghost of a limp in her right hind-leg, and she wondered just how much this lioness had gone through.

The bloodied female paused meters away from the nursing den, and the pig fell amongst the grass sprouts with a dull thud. Its fat, weighty tongue flopped down into the dirt seconds later. A generous portion of its rear was missing, the huntress’ fair share.

Now that she was closer, the Queen could see that, despite her size, this lioness had been weakened. Her fur, while colored beautifully, held no sheen to it, and her eyes were like dull grass. There was a subtle shake to her movements that indicated signs of sun-fever. Her eyelids drooped heavily and her vision seemed to drift in and out of focus. The heavy, uncontrollable panting only confirmed the lithe female’s suspicions. It was quite obvious to Neema that this newcomer would pose no threat, evident by the way she swayed before sitting.

Taji quickly moved to shield Neema, dropping to a true defensive stance. The aforementioned female hung back and sat herself down to watch as the large male rumbled, “What business do you have here?”

“I am called Mbundu,” the lioness chuffed, her voice a hoarse and deep contralto. Eyes darted from Taji to Neema, respectfully avoiding eye-contact before she continued. “I’ve traveled many days, coming from the desert. I’ve come to you only to ask for water, and to know I won’t be killed while resting here.” The look that had spread across the bulky female’s face was one of sheer, wide-eyed desperation. “I brought you  _ this _ ,” she jerked her head toward the pig, ” as a gift. I mean neither you, nor your cubs, any harm.”

Her mate had tensed at the mention of their cubs, but Neema was hardly surprised. She was still lactating, and the cubs were out moments earlier, so the evidence of their existence was clear as day. The low rumbling growl had not been tempered by the lioness’ offering, so Neema rushed to her King’s side and nuzzled into it, hoping to calm him down and to avoid making a scene. 

The fact that this Mbundu had brought them a nice, plump Warthog for dinner, however, did not go unnoticed by the lighter-pelted, ruling female. In fact, it piqued her interest. The cubs were due their first real meal anyhow and this was the perfect opportunity.

The rumble in the disgruntled male’s chest all but ceased when Neema tilted her head to whisper in his ear. “She’s half-dead, Taji. Let her rest, lead her to water, and if she recovers, we’ll test her spirit. She  _ did _ bring us free food after all.”

“Fine,” Taji grunted after a moment, he said nothing as he strode toward the lioness’ kill with purpose. Mbundu shrunk back into herself at his approach, but seemed too tired to move much. “You may stay,” the king said boldly then with brows furrowed, “just know that you won’t be getting any handouts, and I’ll have my eyes on you at all times.”

Mbundu eventually slid back to make room for Taji after he ended up next to the corpse, only to stare her down in an attempt to get her a comfortable distance away. He would eat first, as was customary.

A hardly audible grumble arose from Neema’s stomach as she watched the lead male greedily gobble down large chunks of flesh and organs. She did not kill this animal, so she and her cubs would eat last.

“Understood,” Mbundu finally replied. She gingerly laid herself down while Taji finished gorging himself, and began to lick the crusty blood from her fur.

Soon enough, the broad, onyx-and-honey-maned male stepped away from the meal, striding toward the den with a grunt as the only confirmation that he’d heard her. He panted on his way and plopped himself down to obscure the entrance. A slender pink tongue bounced in the air and dribbled bloodied saliva onto his fore-legs, some of it managed to drip across the fur there and seeped down into the dirt beneath him. Neema’s watchful and loyal soldier, guarding their most precious cargo.

It was when Neema started her approach toward the fresh meat that Mbundu continued to speak. “Are either of you aware that you’ve decided to nurse near a clan of hyenas? I scented them earlier while I was chasing down the pig.”

The Queen faltered. Muscles rigid, she glanced back and paused briefly to answer, “they’re recent additions to these parts. Three full-moons ago was when Taji and I noticed their arrival, but we’ve escaped their notice, for now.” 

The lithe lioness coolly continued her saunter over to the kill. Its insides were exposed to the world, no longer hidden behind the safety of bone and fleshy walls. The setting sun hit just so that the slick gore inside the mauled cavity shone and twinkled like the surface of a cardinal toned river. It made her mouth water terribly, and there was no holding back from gorging  _ herself _ on the Warthog. It stunk worse than when it had been alive, and tasted old and dirty, with about the same consistency as tree bark. But it was food and it certainly filled the hole. More than a couple sun-cycles had come and gone now, since Neema had been able to leave the cubs to hunt. No matter how foul the taste might have been, Warthog was decent eating, and would serve the pride well in the coming days.

While she had played off the mention of hyenas, what the new lioness had said truly sent a pang of worry shooting down her spine. Those putrid brutes had never come this close before, which brought to light the frightful thought of;  _ what if they know we’re here and low in numbers? _ Four hyenas would struggle to take on the three lions, but a whole clan; twenty or forty members strong? They would stand no chance if a clan that size were to ever invade the nursing site.

Luckily, the pride’s time here was all but finished. If Mbundu can be trusted, the added help could ease the strain of traveling with the cubs. Satisfied with her meal, Neema promptly slurped down the last bit of muscle she’d stripped off and then began to pull the carcass back to the eager mouths of her waiting children. Before leaving, though, she turned to give one last look at the tired lioness behind her and momentarily dropped the pig’s leg from her mouth.

“Look, it’s obviously not secure here any more. My cubs are more than ready to explore this world so Taji and I planned to leave tonight. However, you are more than welcome to join us.” Neema spared a small smile, “If you need to rest, I suggest doing so now. I doubt staying an extra day would be wise.”

Mbundu nodded in agreement. “Yes, I am fairly certain that my little hunt has attracted some...  _ unwanted attention _ ,” Dull eyes shot toward the direction she had come from. “I’ll need a few moments for my leg, but I agree, we should head out as soon as the little ones are fed.”

With a nod, Neema left the scarred lioness to rest and resumed dragging the carcass up to the den. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mbundu means Brown (Oshindonga)  
> Neema means Grace (Swahili)  
> Taji means Crown (Sw)  
> Shujaa means Hero (Sw)  
> Maua means Flowers (Sw)  
> Tofauti means Different (Sw)
> 
> (A little reference for anyone who's interested! Mostly using Swahili words but not all.)


End file.
